posted on January 28, 2008 at 2:30 am

domes bubble n burble
gurgling drainpipe rainwater water colour fade
city-zens dressed in hierophantic frantic purple patches
underground connexions
offices filled with coloured paper
arrowmint steno-secs
bosses like a phantom
take down a letter….any letter
wanders wanders wanders
yes thats ok im intercom
i am your dream
i am a voice on your radio
i am reduced to these words
i am innnocent in this criminal strip
i am incoherent while asleep
nobody knows me like this
aside you see
all characters have their aspects attributes and weaknesses
your aspect is western
your attributes are science and medicine
your weakness is spiritual ignorance and pride
your heliports are equipped with neuro-soothe
your magnetoriums are filled with filings
your alethiometer is spinning baby starr
daughters of a revo-lution
the heralds of the damn-aged eras
the architects of spaces and light
the wooers of enemy boys
the skies produce hover-kraft and jet pak junkies
the future ha ha ha ha ha ha
still the same old old school fools
pulling the strings n opening doors angel
crack me up it does
i shoot fire
i smoke ice
i drink hook
i sniff disdainfully
i lock in like a missile
to you whom are my destined explosion
and onwards as the residue settles
and the darkness filters life
and in some cellar where a worm plots downfalls of great men
and in a crowd where someone touches you up
and in a graveyard and its suddenly night
and a lonely figure standing in a convoluted fluted window
surveying the wreckage of some modern disaster
weeping and gnashing of teeth
someone famous bit the Dust
a kinda angel in a dump like this
useless cables and pipes flapping in the wind
the antarctic calls me down down down
under the ice
the fumes and the twisted spiral balconies welded in pain
and frosted and glassed labs where we discover a secret
a secret a secret
jab crack sock locke crabbe boone swoon
i cannot reveal more here
no more no more
thats the secret
there is no more than that
which you clever thing may have all ready de-duced
bound and fettered
a sad bad sacred bird encaged
listening to the joyful songs in the trees

10 Responses to “uncreation”

  1. avatar
    Jen Jewel Brown | 28 January 2008 at 1:22 pm #

    I like these free form flows

  2. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 January 2008 at 1:25 pm #

    indulge us purgatory
    heaven is a no vacancy proposition
    lying behind children
    Africa is screaming
    mother is screaming
    after all , after us ,me and you
    all inclusive
    non evasive

    the morning scratched afternoon as it flicked the evening towards oblivion
    most everything is relevant
    from the right angle

    here we have the woman
    the brown man
    no one gets it
    gets in
    like the carpet crawlers
    we are pulled up by the magnet

    and oh yeah
    thanks for the day
    thanks for the thoughts
    send us

    baal and zeus

  3. avatar
    veleska1970 | 28 January 2008 at 2:49 pm #

    nice freeform today. and a nice blog to come back to after being on a few-day hiatus.

    glad to hear your private function the other day was fun for you. when i win the lottery, maybe i can hire the chrunchies to come play for me and few hundred of my closest friends, huh? LOL

    oh, about the asshole who’s harassing you via e-mail~~yeah, you could get yourself another e-mail address, but we all know what a pain in the ass that is….it’s like changing your phone number, you have to notify everybody that you want to have that number. maybe the next best thing is to publicly embarrass this idiot by publishing his/her name and e-mail addy on your blog. that should shut them down in a hurry.

    to the ass who is doing this: everybody has a right to their personal space, including steve, and you’re obviously invading it and not welcome. just knock it off, will ya?

    sleep well, steve.

    lotza love…..

  4. avatar
    CSTCoach | 28 January 2008 at 2:58 pm #

    love this sorta science friction in the now…

    very cool re: the private function. An afficionado with discerning taste. Sounds like you guys had fun. 🙂

  5. avatar
    Altres | 28 January 2008 at 9:49 pm #

    Steve, here is my favourite poem.

    FERN HILL by Dylan Thomas

    Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
    About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
    The night above the dingle starry,
    Time let me hail and climb
    Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
    And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
    And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
    Trail with daisies and barley
    Down the rivers of the windfall light.

    And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
    About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
    In the sun that is young once only,
    Time let me play and be
    Golden in the mercy of his means,
    And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
    Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
    And the sabbath rang slowly
    In the pebbles of the holy streams.

    All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
    Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
    And playing, lovely and watery
    And fire green as grass.
    And nightly under the simple stars
    As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
    All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
    Flying with the ricks, and the horses
    Flashing into the dark.

    And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
    With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
    Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
    The sky gathered again
    And the sun grew round that very day.
    So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
    In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
    Out of the whinnying green stable
    On to the fields of praise.

    And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
    Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
    In the sun born over and over,
    I ran my heedless ways,
    My wishes raced through the house high hay
    And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
    In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
    Before the children green and golden
    Follow him out of grace.

    Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
    Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
    In the moon that is always rising,
    Nor that riding to sleep
    I should hear him fly with the high fields
    And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
    Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
    Time held me green and dying
    Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

    Some of your poetic bloggs are virtually as wonderful as this.

    Your fan,


  6. avatar
    isolde | 28 January 2008 at 10:16 pm #

    nothing can be finer
    than the tuneful turning whirling
    of the fluted convoluted
    in the morning

  7. avatar
    steve kilbey | 28 January 2008 at 10:21 pm #

    thats a wonderful poem
    and a big compliment
    thank you

  8. avatar
    princey | 28 January 2008 at 11:27 pm #

    I love your poetry too, especially when it ends with a warning!
    Love Amanda

  9. avatar
    Cee | 29 January 2008 at 12:02 am #

    waiting in slow motion…

  10. avatar
    Anonymous | 29 January 2008 at 3:13 am #

    5 stars!beautiful one today .thanks.:D

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